by D.E. Dunlop
“What happened anyway? How could someone so close to the king turn around and stab us all?” James asked.
“I don’t know, James. He’s always had a thing for Angela and ever since she and I began courting there’s been static between him and me. I never would have guessed he hated the whole city though.”
“I can’t imagine how you feel.”
“Well, I gotta stay focused, James. We have to come up with something.” Jessie said.
“Why don’t we sneak in and have a look around?” James suggested. Jessie looked at his friend thoughtfully. “What choice have we got really?” He continued. “It’s just a matter of time before they come after us.”
“We’re so few. We’d be slaughtered.” Jessie dismissed.
“Don’t we owe it to our queen?”
Jessie continued to look pensively on his warrant officer. He straightened his back with pride when he heard those words.
“Yes. Yes we do.” Jessie answered. “Gather a small band and we’ll see what we can come up with. Tell them to pack light.”
Six men, including Jessie, rode day and night. They rode through sleet, snow and rain to their seized home. When they arrived their hearts were torn between feelings of joy, longing and fear. Getting in was relatively easy. Being the Royal Guard, they knew secret doorways and passages to breech the walls. The biggest problem would be avoiding Maynard. His rank put him in regular contact with the Guard. He knew their names and their faces.
“Remember, we’re here for information. We want to know how we can take this giant down without destroying our home, obviously.” Jessie instructed. “We’ll all go separate ways and meet back here tomorrow at dark.”
“We want to find Angela too.” James piped up.
“Yes. If you think you can free her easily, do it. Otherwise bring the information here and we’ll make a plan together.
Each man psyched himself up and they entered the city. First they checked out the corrections corridor. Much to their delight, it had obviously not been used for a very long time. They checked the jail cells and the solitary confinement. These, too, were empty.
The first day ended without positive results. They each found lodging for the evening and around the following midday they stumbled upon the coliseum. One after the other they bumped into each other at the door.
“What the hell is this?” James asked while looking the entrance up and down.
“Let’s check it out.” One suggested.
“Where’s Will? Jessie asked.
They all looked at each other without answers.
Will had the very unpleasant opportunity of poking his head around the wrong corner the night before. He found one of his old friends from before the siege who gladly agreed to take him in for the night and help him the next day to find Angela. What Will was not aware of was that Maynard had offered a very tempting reward for turning in any of the Royal Guard. Immediately after the siege Maynard began random home inspections and hefty penalties including fines and imprisonment were dealt for any perceived to be hiding or interfering with the arrest of members of the Royal Guard. If Maynard’s thugs thought one was hiding something but could not produce evidence their families and friends would be harassed and/or imprisoned until a confession, however false, was obtained. Complete immunity was granted to any person who voluntarily revealed or surrendered a member of the Royal Guard. Not only was immunity granted, but also favour in the markets was insinuated. Since the fall the markets had become quite corrupt; mainly due to the taxes imposed by the new monarch.
So, Will had an enjoyable dinner and visit with his old friend and his family. When he woke up he was in a steel cage with two other men he didn’t know. Each of them was locked in a steel mask.
“Where am I?” He stammered.
“We’re at the coliseum.” One of them answered.
Will looked at him with a furrowed brow that was concealed behind his mask. He wasn’t quite sure that he heard him correctly because of the echo of the man’s voice in his mask and the muffling effect of his own mask.
The shorter of the two cleared his throat. “We’re going to be given weapons and be thrown into a ring with gladiators. Unless you’re experienced or trained in warfare your fate is sealed. Just like ours.”
“I’ve never even been in a fist fight.” The taller one said with a voice full of dread.
Will looked around hoping to figure some way out of his predicament. The three of them shook the bars in a futile attempt to find a week spot.
“What if we refuse to fight?” Will offered and realized right away what the answer was going to be.
“Then the gladiators will just chop us up, or they’ll release the dogs on us.” The shorter one said.
The creaking of the doors and the roar of the crowd interrupted their conversation. When the captives’ eyes adjusted to the light only one gladiator stood in the ring. The gladiator was obviously female and she was adorned in gleaming, oil tinged armour. A variety of weapons lay on the ground at the door of the cage.
“There’s only one.” Will said with amazement.
“She’s the worst one.” The tall one said. “I’ve seen her kill five men without moving from that spot. They call her the Queen of the Coliseum.”
Will held them back for a moment while he formulated some kind of simple plan. “Let me engage her and you guys come at her at the same time from the back.” He said as he picked up a sword. “Take these and make sure you attack at the same time.” He said, handing them each a flail star.
“Keep your eyes open. Remember Maynard knows who you are.” Jessie warned and they entered the coliseum.
“Holy crap.” James mumbled. Their jaws hung agape at the ring. They found their way, cautiously, to the side of the ring where Angela, masked in the armour Princess Kathryn had forced upon her, was battling three other warriors. Or, rather, she was about to.
The three men raised their weapons to attack. Will lunged head on while the other two swung the flails from the side. Angela rolled out backward, drew her sword and slew the one on her left. The crowd roared with approval. The Queen of the Coliseum resumed her starting position to await the next attack. For the following half hour she toyed with her opponents. She only used her shield and sword against Will. For the other she would use her fist, feet and head until she grew tired of the game. As she made her move to slay him Will took a swing at her with a mace, but he only glanced her helmet, knocking it and her mask to the ground.
During the match, near to its end, one of Jessie’s men turned around and looked up into the stands. He looked directly at Maynard, who was looking back at him.
Maynard had been, as was his habit, watching the fight intently. Inside he was amazed at Angela’s skill, but he also longed to see her bleed and fall. His attention had been honed on the match until it grew closer to the wall below him. At that point he noticed a small group of men who looked a little out of place. One of them turned around and looked at him. In an instant he knew who the man was. “James.” He said and stood up. “Guards!” He called.
Jessie nearly jumped over the wall when he saw her. “Angela!” He yelled. He would have jumped into the ring, but James grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Maynard.” James said and the five of them rushed for the door.
“Angela.” Will exclaimed from within his mask and she slew him and his partner in one fluid motion.
The cheers of the crowd drown out Maynard’s call so only his personal guards responded. By the time the rest of the guards were alerted Jessie and his men were out of the building. The guards were not far behind as they ducked into the first alley. The city went into high alert and was suddenly crawling with Sittyan soldiers. The spies barely escaped. The secret passage they chose lead them deep into the Cedar forest of Midhurst, far away from the searching guards and soldiers.
Reluctantly and painst
akingly the infiltrators travelled further and further away from Bayfield. They were plagued with thoughts of Angela dying in a gladiator’s ring, the focal point of some blood sport, mere entertainment for the southern filth. They were also pestered by the disappearance of Will. They hadn’t seen him since they entered the city. They wanted desperately to find him and rescue the both of them, but now that Maynard knew they had been in the city, they had to get as far away as possible or they would never have a chance to rescue anyone.
The spring and early summer months passed by very slowly for Jessie. He swayed back and forth between anger and depression. He refused to eat and his sleep was sporadic. The time dragged and dragged, despite the encouragement his soldiers offered. Periodically, he would send scouts to neighbouring townships to gather support to raid Bayfield and possibly rid the county of its captors.
August blew in with a new message, a message of hope. James had gone to Oro to rally support. Not only did he achieve an alliance but he also went around by Bayfield to see what he could learn. He found good news and bad news.
“The bad news is that Katharine has brought in more troops. It looks like she’s going to advance again, but no one really knows why.” James explained.
“Greed. It drives a lot of people.” Jesse replied flatly. “What’s the good news?”
“Angela is still alive.” He said and Jessie obviously turned his attention to his comrade. “As near as I can figure, she’s doing well. She’s the star in the ring, but I don’t think anyone knows who she is. They call her the Queen of the coliseum. They keep her somewhere in the palace.”
“Isn’t that ironic?”
James put his head down. “I’m sorry, but I was too afraid to go into the palace.” He apologized. Jessie clapped his hand on James’ shoulder.
“You’ve done well, my friend. There’s nothing to be sorry about. You’ve brought hope to a dismal heart.”
Jessie straightened his back with hope in his heart and a glimmer in his eye. James knew the look in his friend’s face.
“I’ll round up some men.” He said. “Oh, I nearly forgot…” James said as he turned around again. “Oro will come within a couple of days. They’re going to camp on this side of Harrington Fields.”
“Excellent! We’ll be there.” Jessie concurred. He turned his face toward Bayfield and deeply inhaled the fresh lake breeze through his nostrils.
“This time there will be no turning back.” He vowed to himself.
Chapter 18
The Ruby of Sheila Na’ Gig
Ren sat on a large rock amongst the sirens with a pile of butts growing at his feet. He puffed away fiendishly and wasn’t aware of Shayla until she spoke.
“Why do you hate me so?” She asked.
Ren didn’t respond, but only followed her with his eyes as she came around in front.
“I see you’ve found my sisters. Beautiful, aren’t they?” She walked gracefully amidst the statues, cupping their faces in one hand gently as she passed them by. “Each of them more than capable of stopping a man in his tracks, never to look away.” She continued with a soft tender voice. She slipped her arm around the waist of one whose garments were fading close to the point of being non-existent and embraced her passionately as if to kiss her, but continued on without actually stopping. She slowly made her way back around toward Ren who kept his eyes on her the whole time. “Men.” She muttered. “Men like you sent each of these beauties to an early grave by robbing them of their only desire, their one and only obsession.”
“And what might that be?” Ren asked, not even pretending to be interested as she stepped within a foot of him.
“The thing you and I have fought over all along.” She said as Ren blew smoke in her face. Her head was tilted to one side like she would try to kiss him and, without hesitation or surprise; she inhaled his smoke and, moving within an inch of his face, slowly breathed it back at him. “The one thing both are not willing to share.” She said with her voice almost as low as a whisper. Abruptly and rather matter-of-factly she turned on her heels and walked around the other side of the rock. “I could help you.” She called back.
“I don’t need help from the likes of you.” He replied without looking after, but wondering what she meant.
“Don’t be so hasty, Hun.” Shayla rebutted. “Aren’t you just a little concerned?”
“About?” He asked sarcastically.
“Your sweetheart, of course. You’ve been away a very long time. Don’t you fear she may think you’re dead and be consoled by another?” Shayla asked tauntingly.
“What makes you think I have a sweetheart?” Ren guised.
“I’ve seen her.” She replied and proceeded to describe Ezbieta precisely. “And as a matter of fact I saw her in the arms of another man.” She said with absolutely no feeling. “So, are you interested?” She asked again.
“I think it depends what you want from me.” Ren replied.
“I need you to help me close the deal.” She said. “Either that, or you and I could work out a deal of our own. Either or…no worries.”
Ren looked at her with disgust. He was angry at her deceit towards his friend and the fact that his friend had fallen for her and in the end he meant absolutely nothing to her. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He asked through clenched teeth.
“Oh, you know my name, but you will never know who I am.” She answered.
“Sheila Na’Gig.” Ren said under his breath and she smiled at him while she leaned over the rock on her hands with her elbows folded under her stomach.
“So what’s it going to be, Hun? She’s left you anyway. See for yourself.” She said slyly and pointed to a stone birdbath on a pedestal near to one of the statues. Reluctantly, he went to it and looked into the icy, black water and to his dismay he saw his Ezbieta being consoled by a man in a Sittyan uniform. He struck out at the water in anger.
“Neither. I will not help you. You’re a liar and a harlot.” He rebuked.
She only continued to smile. “Have it your way then you ignorant fool. You cannot resist me forever and eventually your sweet little Ezbieta will join me here in my forest of porcelain pretties.” She laughed lightly.
“I’ll kill you, you…” Ren lashed out with his sword, but Tinne who had just arrived blocked him. Ren and Tinne glared at each other for a moment and put their swords back in their sheaths. Shayla smiled behind feigned shy eyes.
“Look at her! Look at yourself! Can’t you see what she’s doing?” Ren asked emphatically. “She’s going to destroy you.”
“Looked to me like you were going to destroy her. I brought your horse and gear.” Tinne replied in a drone. Ren fumed at the two staring expectantly at him and climbed into his saddle.
“It’s your funeral, schmuck.” He said to Tinne and rode into the forest.
**********
Ren lay his head down on the polished oak bar. He had travelled three weeks to cover the distance of a three or four hour hike. No matter how he tried he simply couldn’t navigate the forest of sirens. The sounds of the beautiful women laughing, crying, singing and humming rang constantly in his ears. He knew the source of the voices and still was unable to reason them away. At times he thought he saw them, running, flaunting and playing bashfully in the underbrush. The cold reality of winter would snap him back momentarily to an empty, dormant forest. He would rub his eyes wearily while the wind danced with the tops of the cotton wood trees. How he escaped, he may not ever know.
“What’ll it be, Hun?” The lady behind the bar asked with a familiar voice, her long, red hair covering the bar as she leaned on her elbows. Her mysterious, green eyes sparkled beneath long, dark lashes. Ren snapped upright and braced himself with his hands on the bar and his eyes were wild.
The bartender looked at him cautiously. “Y’alright there?” He asked, placing the freshly polished glass down. “B
ourbon.” The bartender said after studying Ren’s demeanour for a moment. This one’s on the house. You look like you’ve been to hell and back on a wooden cart.” He was a man of average height with short dark hair, a moustache and a notably round belly. Ren remained silent. He looked slowly around the room with its stone walls and barn beam rafters. The small, single pane windows were thick with frost, but the large hearth in the corner kept the occupants safe against the clutches of winter.
Ren gripped the seat of the bar stool when his eyes landed on Shayla. She was playing a guitar in the corner and winking at him flirtatiously.
“Pretty good with that thing, isn’t he?” The bartender asked.
“He?” Ren asked back. “What?”
“Thomas.” The bartender responded while pointing briefly at the man in the corner with the guitar. Ren looked again to see a young man; his curly blonde head was down cast to avoid distractions as he played.
“Where’re ya from, friend? You don’t look familiar.” He asked while Ren continued to rub his eyes and look at the guitarist. He was certain he had seen Shayla.
“Bayfield.” Ren answered.
“Long way from home. What brings you down here?”
Ren explained how he and Tinne had been out exploring and were fooled by Shayla. He left out the part about the stones and the Field of Lords because he didn’t know if he could trust him. Besides that the Story Tellers were considered, by the general public to be merely a legend for campfire entertainment.
“I think I was about to pass out when I saw what I thought might be a light in the distance and…well, here I am.” Ren concluded.
The bartender stood slack jawed in the middle of putting glasses away. “You escaped the Forest of Sirens?” He said at last. “Well that explains your appearance then.” He called to someone in the back. “Steak and potatoes. So, you’re going back for him, right?” He pried.